


Hiraeth

by rejtely



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Other, POV First Person, Rating May Change, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive (to a degree; i'll take some suggestions), Swearing, endgame is undetermined i'm stuck between genji and an omnic oc but there'll be plenty of both so, i love universe hopping fics so here ya go, lots of swearing, no beta we die like men, pure self-indulgence, reader has a nickname
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rejtely/pseuds/rejtely
Summary: Hiraeth-(n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that didn't exist.A normal day being late for work results in a more immersive Overwatch experience than you were expecting... Welcome to King's Row, year 2077. You must use your knowledge of everyone's favorite video game to survive, and avoid letting it slip you know some secrets you shouldn't.





	1. First Step

**Author's Note:**

> hey wassup, ready for a mess? not sure where this is going so bear with me

It was with a heavy heart and a quiet grumble of "fuck" that I accepted three undeniable truths.

The first of which was that I was, for the third day in a row, going to be noticeably late to work. I had no one to blame but myself for hitting snooze that one extra time, but I had  _ really _ thought I'd be able to catch the bus if I sprinted instead of walked. I might have made it if I hadn't slipped on the wet concrete a block away and scattered all the contents of my bag on the sidewalk.

The second truth was that I was uncomfortably damp from the rain, and there was no way I was going to be able to run home, grab a change of clothes, and make it back in time for the next bus.

The third was that, if I booked it and cut through the backroads, I might be able to catch up to the bus at the next stop and make it on time.

I stared through the pouring rain, hopping from one wet sneaker to the other, weighing my options. Looking at the schedule, I determined the next bus wouldn't be showing up for fifteen minutes. Mm. Not good. Showing up to work even more wet than I already was... also not good. Slipping and falling again and possibly hurting myself? Bad. Being put on probation for being late? Worse.

I took one last forlorn look at the protective roof of the bus stop and dashed out into the wet. It felt like the moment I stepped out, it started pouring harder.

"Fuck you." I said to the rain. "Fucking moron." I said to myself. I should have brought an umbrella. And rainboots. And gone to sleep earlier. I needed to stop playing Overwatch so late.

The rain had soaked my hair within seconds, my jacket within minutes. Every step in my sneakers was accompanied by a gross squelch. Work was going to suck like this, but better than being fired.

I sprinted down the sidewalk, nearly losing my footing at times as I tried to navigate the puddles. The roads were surprisingly busy for so early in the morning, cars driving recklessly fast despite the torrents of rain.

Water was in my eyes, my lungs were burning, and my legs ached. All I wanted to do was stop and rest, but I was determined. I was going to make it on time or die trying!

There was a flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder, and I stumbled as my foot caught on an uneven piece of sidewalk. I fell and skidded on my knees, ripping my jeans and scraping my palms as I caught myself. I stood shakily and dusted off my knees, noting the cuts and muck.

I was so close, the bus stop within sight. The only thing in my way was an intersection, and like hell I was going to allow a little jaywalking to get between me and being employed. The road was busy, people rushing to get to work, and I jogged in place, trying to find a good enough opening to dash through.

Distantly there was the sound thunder, and wondered where the lighting had been.

There was a flash directly in front of me, a brilliant blue bolt right in the middle of the road in front of me accompanied by a crack of thunder, and then I was blinking spots from my vision as a brunette woman stood in the road, steam rising from the concrete around her.

I tried to ignore the little part of my brain noticing how familiar she was, and how utterly nuts it was that she showed up in a ball of lightning, and focused on the fact she was standing in the middle of a busy intersection.

A horn blared and she looked up, eyes widening as a vehicle hurtled toward her.

I reacted, leaping forward with a shout of "watch out!" as the bus tried to brake. I hit her in a low tackle, sending the both of us flying as she shouted something back at me. Ears ringing from the earlier thunder and the imminent horn, I could only make out a strangled "hold on!". I felt an impact on my lower back- I guess I caught the bus after all, a distant part of my brain mused to itself- as lightning struck and thunder boomed. I felt arms clutch my shoulders and we fell through the road-

Into the sky as clouds raced by and I felt a scream rip its way through my throat as I saw the endless blue of the ocean below us and there was a flash and-

We landed in thick underbrush, the humidity hitting me as we rolled through ferns and a shriek pierced the air as some unfamiliar animal sprinted away and then-

We were tumbling through the snow down a ragged mountain, cold seeping through my drenched coat as snow flew everywhere and I heard a shout as the woman's grip slipped and there was another flash as we were ripped apart and-

I landed with a pained shout against a brick wall, the wind pulled from my lungs as I struggled to my hands and knees in the middle of an alleyway.

I gasped for air, staring at the water dripping from my hair as I tried to focus.

What had just happened? I balled my hands, trying to catch my breath.

"I just had a breakdown," I reasoned to myself. "I just hallucinated that because I'm having a mental breakdown over being late or something stupid. I'm fine." I shut my eyes tight, clenching my fist as I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me.

The warmth of the sun on my back comforted me as I struggled to get my breathing under control, but it hitched when I realized-

Sun? It had been  _ pouring _ .

I forced myself to my feet through the pain in my knees and back as I whirled around, taking in my surroundings.

Tall buildings, dark and stone and way too tall to belong to a smalltime northern town. What looked like a tricked-out car belonging to a sci-fi movie set sat a few meters away, and the sun shone down in a cloudless blue sky. Rising high above the already tall, cramped buildings were fantastic skyscrapers, shining bright in the sun.

"Ohhh my god." I moaned. I fell to my knees, flinching at the pain. "I died. The bus hit me and I died." I felt tears prick my eyes but none fell as I stared at the buildings in front of me. "What a... lame death."

It was then that I noticed the afterlife was populated.

A man walked by the alley I kneeled in, chatting on a phone, briefcase in hand. A few startlingly red buses passed by on the road. I watched people pass for a few minutes as I tried to process everything that had just happened in the last two minutes. It was a lot.

I stared at the people. Some of the people stared back, then continued on their way.

I shed my drenched jacket, getting back to my feet and taking a few steps towards the street.

I turned in circles, soaking in the sunshine and the startling lack of trees.

Wait a minute. I dug around in my bag, then pulled out my phone with a triumphant cry. My screen had cracked somewhere along the way, but it still worked, and there was signal.

Out of curiosity, I tried calling work. Had to let them know I wouldn’t be coming in, right? I got an error about not having service, and stared in disdain at my phone. There was one number that always worked, regardless of having service, now that I thought about it.

I dialed 911.

Someone answered within moments of the ring, “This is 911, please state your emergency.”

“Yes, hello. Um. I think I died? I, uh, I pushed a lady out of the way of a bus and I sorta got hit but then we teleported or something and now I’m dead?”

There was a pause.

“What’s your location, please? Are you injured?”

“Uhm.” I looked left, then right. “I don’t see a street sign? I think there’s a weird apartment building across the street and a train station? Cathedral? Fancy tower building? And my back hurts a lot, but I can stand and walk just fine. So, no rush. I don’t know where the lady went. She seemed alright.”

“What is the name of the business, and what city?” I couldn’t tell if the responder was alarmed, or annoyed.

“Uh. ‘The Meridian’? Oh wait, that might be a weird looking movie theater, now that I think about it. I seriously have no idea where I am. There’s, uh… There’s a large clock tower? A—woah, is that a hologram? There’s a giant holographic clock tower. Listen, I just need an adult, or like a police officer or something.” I walked over to a bench and sat down, not failing to notice the way the woman next to me scooted to the far end.

“A movie theater named ‘The Meridian’ is located in—” the emergency responder cut out, and I pulled my phone away from my ear to look at the blank screen.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Dead battery? I pulled it off the charger like 2 hours ago.” I stood up with a grimace. My lower back was aching something fierce; I’d probably sport a nasty bruise from that impact with the bus.

I trudged back to the alley and picked up my jacket, examining the scuffs. As warm as it was here, in this mysterious city of clock towers and skyscrapers, it was probably for the best to keep it with me.

I sat back against the wall of the alley, resting my elbows on my knees and put my head on my hands. I took a moment to just sit and think about what just happened, and decided I was not dead.

Now that I thought about it, my head hurt, my knees hurt, my back hurt, and that was too much pain for me to be dead. So, where was I?

“Fuck.” I said to the wall opposite me.

I checked my watch, glad I had it, and the face read “8:26am” at me in fractured lines. Hm. I struggled to understand what that meant compared to the big clock tower, which read 5:26. Time travel? Different time zones? Judging by the time differences I was probably in Europe, which made no sense, and yet here I was. Sitting in an alley, crying about how lost I was.

"I'm... late for work," I mumbled to myself in-between sobs. "And alone. And gross. I really need a shower."

The sound of footsteps jolted me awake. I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep, but it made sense. Sobbing uncontrollably for hours takes a lot of energy. I stayed where I was, curled up in a ball on the cobblestones of the alley and resisted the urge to sit up.

The footsteps came closer, and my breathing hitched.  _ Please don't be a mugger, please don't be a mugger, please don't- _

The footsteps passed in a hurry, not even pausing for a second before fading into the distance. I let out a sigh and sat up slowly. The ache in my back was now a painful tightness, and the bruises on my knees were turning some very ugly colors. My stomach growled, and I debated wasting away into nothing in this alley for the next few days.

As easy as it would be just to lie there for the rest of eternity, it was probably smarter to try to find some food.

Stepping back out into the main street, I was greeted by a distinct lack of people. Judging by the barely pink tint of the sky and the lit streetlights, it was very early morning. I looked around, picked a direction, and started walking.

Some clouds had rolled in, gray and angry, since I first arrived. It looked like it might rain in a few hours. I grimaced, not looking forward to getting drenched again.

After a solid ten minutes of wandering down one street, I took a left at a random intersection. Everything looked the same, and nothing was open. I kept going. There had to be a 24-hour diner or something  _ somewhere.  _ Or a coffee place with bagels. I passed a pub and a bookstore and what might’ve been a butcher’s shop, but the former was scary and the latter two were closed.

Did I even have any money?

I checked my pockets, and sure enough my wallet had decided to wander off. It was probably at the top of that mountain I'd rolled down earlier. I snorted. Just my luck. Miraculously, I found a five-dollar bill in my jacket pocket. That'd get me a bagel, at least!

Examining my surroundings again, I paused to stare at some graffiti.

“’Scrap all bots’?” I read aloud. “Hhhhuuuuh.” Now that I’d noticed that, I couldn’t help but notice more; “machines have no rights”, and ragged looking “equal rights for omics” posters. When and why did someone go through the effort of graffitiing anti-Omnic propaganda? Was it an overzealous Overwatch fan who was also racist? At least someone retaliated with the pro-equality posters.

Considering for a moment, the thought occurred that no, I wasn’t dead, but maybe I was in a coma having a  _ very  _ weird dream.

Around the half an hour mark of wandering around, trying to find a place that was both open and willing to give me food, I spotted a small crowd in the distance.

"Oh, thank god," I mumbled. "You'd think a city this big, there'd be more 24-hour joints around."

I headed over, a spring in my step. The line looked long, but hey, I could manage to stand around for a little longer if it meant I could get some food.

A small bit of anxiety started to eat away at me, and I wasn't sure if it was because I was super dirty or because that line suddenly looked... incredibly suspicious. This area had more graffiti and the streets were much dirtier than the courtyard with the clock tower and buses. There were protest signs and glass littered around and now that I thought about it, wandering around an unfamiliar city alone at night was a bad idea.

The closer I got, the stronger the anxiety, and I started noting that the line of people didn’t look much like a line. And nobody was standing, but rather constantly shifting around. And that wasn't a food place. And they all had bats. And that looked a lot like a smashed window in that storefront, and that was a  _ very expensive looking device those guys were carrying out of there- _

I stopped walking. That was a gang. Burgling an electronics store. I was witnessing illegal activity, in an unfamiliar city, in the middle of the night, alone. I turned around, and started walking away.

I had made it a few meters before there was a shout behind me, and a quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that I had been noticed, and my attention was not appreciated. A couple members of the gang started running my way, and then I was sprinting and I was  _ not _ a good runner.

The thought occurred, about half a block away, that I should have spent more time running in gym class. And should have taken self-defense courses.

My lungs burned, my legs hurt, my headache was returning- is it bad to run with a concussion? Now that I thought about it, I'd fallen asleep with a concussion. That was also bad. My stomach growled again, and I was made aware of just how hungry I was.

The shouts were getting louder. I hazarded a peek over my shoulder, and gave a shout of alarm. I had slowed down a bit and they had gained. They were close enough I could identify them more easily- two girls and a guy, all very intimidating with their strong arms and tattered clothes and what looked like very heavy bats and  _ were those guns?? _

They had guns. Oh, god. I'd already maybe died once in the last 12 hours; I did  _ not _ want to make that a habit.

I'd entered a square now, an open space where I could maybe find someplace to hide.

An uneven patch in the road caught the toe of my sneaker and I went down hard. I caught myself on my hands and bruised knees and scrambled back to my feet.

There was a shout directly behind me, and then a solid thud as a sharp pain shot through my shoulder. I went down again, hissing as my cut-up palms once again hit the road. I tried to scramble to my feet, but a heavy boot hit me in the side and I rolled onto my back.

I stared up at my attackers, noting their harsh faces and similar outfits and bats, ready to bash in my skull, and  _ guns- _

"You shouldn't'a turned that corner," One of the girls said, and I gulped. She also had an accent. I was definitely in Overwatch-themed England.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," I forced out. "I swear, I don't even know who you are or where I am-

"You're fatally lost, is what you are." The first one to have spoken, she seemed like the one with the most initiative of the three, ground out. They all raised their bats, and time seemed to slow down. I saw the intent, the weapons, and my life flashed before my eyes. Fear froze me in place, and all I wanted to do was run.

Run far and fast and away and never look back and if I was just anywhere but here I'd be safe and happy and-

The bats were coming down, they were about to hit me, and my arm came up to protect my head at the same time my eyes focused on a weird building across the square. It had an open entry large enough for a big truck to pass through and a strange emblem—a factory, maybe? If only I'd made it there, if I had run just a little faster, I could hidden and gotten away and-

There was no sound, no warning. One minute I was a millisecond from getting my arm broken with a bat, and the next I was falling on my face onto a hard metal floor with a clang.

I scrambled to my hands and knees, looking around. My heart was racing; I could hardly catch my breath.

There was shouting in the distance. I stood up on shaky legs, peeking out from around the corner. I cautiously looked out, and there were the three gang members, looking around in anger. One turned my way and I hastily moved out of sight.

What just happened?

I headed farther into the building, deciding it was better than spending the rest of the night out in a neighborhood where gang members were going to chase me down for snitching.

The power plant was warm and lit with dull red lights all around. I couldn’t help but notice the large gaps in some of the flooring; a quick peek down confirmed it was a very long drop down to what looked like strange… compartments. The whole place looked eerily familiar, as though I’d been here before—

It came to me in a flash, and I blurted out, “Is this the fuckin’ King’s Row power plant? The fuck?” I looked around in wonder. This was an actual functioning power plant. This was really King’s Row. I was in King’s Row. “Holy shit.”

I sat down and leaned up against a wall, pressing a hand to my growling stomach. “I need to take stock of my situation. I need to figure out a plan.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, what do I know? I am in King’s Row, at the power plant. Somewhere around here is the omnic city-under-the-city.” I nodded. “Not too bad. Okay, what do I have? Dead phone, five US dollars, a functioning watch and my clothes. Possibly a concussion, bruised ribs and knees. What don’t I know? How I got here, what year it is, if I’m dreaming or hallucinating or having a mental breakdown. For now, I’ll just assume this is all real so I don’t get myself killed.”

My stomach growled again and I groaned. “First order of business, getting some food.” That pub earlier would probably have something, if I could get past the area with the gang members. I didn’t have any local currency, though… first order of business would be to get over there, second would be worrying about payment.

I carefully found my way to a side entrance of the power plant, looking around warily. It looked like the thugs had booked it with their loot after I disappeared, so I headed back down the narrow street to the bar. I could feel the anxiety of earlier still buzzing in my gut; if that gang saw me again, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to outrun all of them. I just had to bet on them either being long gone, or not caring enough about one civilian to come after me again. There were no signs of life as I made my way to the pub, and I could feel myself slowly relaxing. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, though. 

Thankfully, the bar was empty except for an Omnic bartender. I didn’t miss the “no Omnics allowed” sign very firmly nailed out front, and paused in the doorway to look from it to the Omnic inside. If I wasn’t sure about being in King’s Row before, this was very strong evidence.

I tried to avoid staring, but couldn’t help it as I came face to face with an actual sentient robot being. This was simultaneously the coolest and scariest, possibly lethal, dream I have ever had.

“You have a problem?” they grumbled. Their voice was low and sounded annoyed, a slight distortion giving it a bit of a growl. Upon stepping in and getting a closer look, I noticed the bartender wore a name tag—“Aegis Five, he/him”. Ah, convenient.

“No, uh… no.” I wasn’t sure if mentioning that I  _ did  _ have a problem with segregation would get me on his good side, so I powered through. “Do you have anything to eat here?”

Aegis gave me what I guess was a flat look, judging by the slight tilt of his head and the silence. He pointed behind him with a jerk of his thumb, and my attention was dragged from his sharp features to the menu plastered to the back wall.

“Ah,” I said smartly. “I’ll, uh, have a pork roll.”

The bartender turned to a small oven thing, grabbed what I could only assume was a pork roll wrapped in tin foil, and dropped it on the counter in front of me.

“Four-fifty.” He crossed his arms, and I grabbed the roll and pulled out the wadded five-dollar bill from my pocket.

I set it on the counter, and despite not having emotive features the look Aegis gave me was withering. “We don’t accept foreign currency here.”

“Sorry, I don’t have anything else. I was mugged and—”

He held out a hand. “I’m going to have to ask for that back.”

“But I—”

Aegis set the hand he’d been holding out onto the counter and leaned in until I was staring straight into his optics. “If you can’t pay for it, then you can’t buy it. I will not lose my job over a punk and a pork roll, understand?” I nodded, staring at my hands as he leaned back and put out a hand again.

“Good. Now hand it over.”

I looked up at him, unsure. I looked at the door out of the corner of my eye. All that was between me and freedom and a pork roll were a few tables and maybe about three meters. Aegis noticed my hesitation.

“Don’t even think about making a run for it, punk.” Man, this was getting serious real fast.

“It’s a pork roll, you’d really lose your job over a pork roll?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to settle on a decision.

Aegis headed towards the open end of the bar, probably to block me into the space. “Maybe, maybe not. I’m not going to take that risk. Do you know how hard it is for an Omnic to get a job here? Nigh impossible.  _ Hand it over _ .”

I jumped backwards to avoid his lunge, and tried to plan an escape route. Aegis was a lot bigger than I was, both height and build-wise. He was sturdy, and could probably snap me in half if he tried. I could see why he’d be hired to watch a pub. As it was, just by standing in front of me he was blocking all escape routes, but I could avoid him for a little while longer. Just long enough to maybe—

My eyes locked onto the bookstore just down the road. It was lit by a golden light, and I could see through the open doorway the desk and shelves of books inside. Perfect place to escape. I remembered from my many hours of playing Overwatch that just through that bookstore was the square of King’s Row and the alley I had initially appeared in. If I could just make it there…

For the second time today, one moment I was in trouble and the next I was reeling from suddenly being… somewhere else. I ducked down under the messy desk, hoping the bartender hadn’t noticed me in the brightly lit room just a few doors away.

I could hear Aegis shout, “ _ What the fuck? _ ”, and hazarded a peek around the desk to watch him scramble around in confusion. I hated to have to do this, but I was starving. I’d try to pay him back somehow.

After a few minutes of searching in vain, Aegis headed back into the bar. I stepped out of the bookshop, and carefully made my way back towards the power plant. It was the warmest place to spend the night, and though the floors were metal it was better than not having shelter at all. I’d made it halfway to the power plant when I heard a shout behind me.

“There you are, punk! Get back here!” Aegis hadn’t given up, apparently, and I ran the rest of the way to the power plant. I’d started with some distance between us, and was able to run through the winding side-corridors and evade him without much difficulty.

_ Thank god King’s Row is a common and memorable map, _ I thought.

Aegis shouted for me a few more times, but I’d managed to get into the back rooms and hide behind some crates. I doubted he’d want to spend all night looking for me. I could hear him distantly running around, grumbling, but he never got so close that I was worried. Eventually his sounds faded away, and I settled in to eat.

The pork roll had gone cold, but better than nothing. I wrapped my jacket around myself and curled up between the crates, feeling slightly more secure than I had the last dozen or so hours. I had a slightly better grasp of my situation, I thought. I knew where I was now, I hadn’t died or gotten arrested for theft, and hell, I actually knew my way around pretty decently. All I needed to do now is figure out  _ when _ I was, hopefully get a better living situation, and maybe figure out what the heck was going on with the… teleportation. That’s what it had to be, after all. 

It was a similar sensation as when I was falling with Tracer (who else could it have been?) after the bus, but I didn’t seem to have a solid grasp on it. It had to be a side-effect of getting thrown through time and space. Maybe with more practice I’d be able to use it reliably, but that was a thought for the morning. 

All the adrenaline and running I’d been doing was finally catching up to me, and I fell asleep to the dull hum and red glow of the power plant.


	2. Hero Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you commit a crime but save a dude

When I woke up, it felt like I’d slept maybe four hours. I confirmed that with a glance at my watch. I had a crick in my neck from sleeping on the metal floor, but I felt slightly more refreshed. Standing up resulted in a sequences of pops and cracks as my bones protested the movement. My mind felt better, but god my body was sore.

My clothes were an absolute wreck. Falling down a mountain (still struggling to process that…), getting tackled to the ground, and sleeping on metal was doing nothing for my appearance. I could really use a shower.

I was no longer starving thanks to Aegis’… generosity, but I was still pretty hungry. If I was going to survive, I was going to have to come up with a plan. I needed a clean set of clothes and some sort of income or supply of food at least. Shelter was available in the power plant; it was warm enough from the generators and vacant.

I stretched and started heading to the entrance of the power plant. Every few steps I’d stop and focus on a spot ahead of me, trying to see if I could jump forward. No dice. I wasn’t sure what the trigger was for the teleportation (let’s be real, there was no other word for it) but it probably had something to do with really, really, wanting to be somewhere else. As it was, I really, really wanted to be home, but that felt very out of reach.

It was still stupidly early in the morning, and the storm clouds from earlier were hanging low overhead. There was a stiff wind now, and it ripped straight through my damp jacket. First order of business; dry, warmer clothes. Everything was closed still, and wouldn’t be open for another hour or two at least. Not that I could pay for anything, anyway.  
My options were limited and unless I was willing to starve/freeze to death… anyway, I came to a decision very quickly.  
I was going to have to commit a crime.  
Theft, to be precise.  
  
It took awhile, but I managed to find a clothing store. Since I was so close to the omnic district it wasn’t a fancy one thankfully, so whatever I nabbed wouldn’t be too conspicuous. It probably didn’t say much for my character that I was willing to jump to theft so quickly, but the situation was unique. I was either A) dreaming, so what did anything matter, or B) actually trapped in another reality that follows Overwatch’s timeline, so I had to get my shit together.  
The latter option felt very insane, but this was too real to be a dream.

I peeked into the shop window, scoping out the inside. It was a pretty generic clothing store, organized exactly how you’d expect. I took a deep breath and focused on an open spot in the store. Nothing. Maybe it was a fluke, the first couple times? Maybe I’d run out of teleportation juice. The only reason Tracer could do what she could was from the faulty experiment she’d been in. I had to have caught her when she was unhinged from time and space, hence the weird dimension hopping… but that meant what I was doing was the result of being exposed to whatever was happening to her. If I kept trying, would I end up stuck in a wall or something? Would I end up between two places, in a limbo of sorts? What if I tried teleporting but left behind my organs?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I needed help.

But I needed clothes first. No one was going to take me seriously like this.

One more time couldn’t hurt, right? Or at least two times. Once to get in and once to get out. Breaking in the normal way was more likely to get me caught after all.

The feeling of anxiety tight in my chest, I tried once more. Focus on the place to go, and then want it more than anything. I needed clean, dry clothes or I’d get ill quickly. Maybe even freeze to death, if the weather took a turn. I needed to get inside. I had to.

I was grateful to discover the inside of the shop was warmer than outside, and the streetlamps illuminated the front area enough that I could navigate with little trouble. With a dead phone, I had no hope for a flashlight.

I was sure there were cameras inside, so I worked quickly. I grabbed the largest bag I could find from behind a register, and started grabbing clothes. Pants, shirt, socks, underwear, sweater, jacket. I snatched a hat and pair of leather gloves as I passed by in case it got any colder. Was that everything?

I did an extra lap around the shop just in case anything jumped out at me like “you need this, moron!” I grabbed a thick scarf. I did, in fact, need this. A backpack caught my eye, and I ditched the store-branded shopping bag for it instead.

A second extra lap around the shop landed me in front of one of the mannequin models. I wasn’t a fan of mannequins on principle, but being alone in a store–illegally, my brain reminded me–in the dark really made it even worse. What got me to notice this one, however, was it’s style. Decked out in a leather jacket and some edgy bangles, if I was actually shopping here I’d probably consider getting something it was wearing. Since I was going for inconspicuous clothing, however, that was out the window. The most notable thing about the mannequin was the motorcycle helmet it was wearing. An interesting accessory; considering it was the only one in the store, most likely a prop.

I wrestled the helmet off the mannequin and made my exit.

It was easier getting out than in. The anxiety of being in a store illegally was more than enough to get me to pop back out in the street with little effort, and I couldn’t help but walk very quickly away.

The next stop was a grocery store. Luckily, there was one not too far from the clothing store. I took a deep breath, focused on the hollow feeling in my stomach, and–

I was inside. Sweet.

I grabbed the necessities, going for the generic cheap brands where possible. Water and canned foods with pop-off tops. Non perishables with high protein. A loaf of bread to keep hunger at bay when everything else runs out. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to fill my backpack and to last me at least the next week, possibly longer if I rationed carefully.

It was as I was making my way around the fruit aisle that it happened. I took one step towards the front of the store, close to the door, and a loud klaxon pierced the air.

I couldn’t help swearing, shoving an apple in my bag as I desperately focused on getting the hell out of there. Thankfully it was getting easier and easier to go where I needed to, with the levels of anxiety I was starting to experience.

I wasn’t sure if the cameras got a look at my face, but I took a roundabout route back to the powerplant, just in case.

I changed into the new clothes quickly to avoid catching a chill. Immediately I felt better, though I lamented wearing new clothes without taking a shower. My hair was an absolute mess, but that was fixed by covering it with the hat. I didn’t realize just how cold I was before until suddenly I was all bundled up with a thicker jacket, gloves, a hat, and scarf. The helmet was an impulse grab, but who knows when you need something to protect your head and obscure your face? I stuffed it into the backpack with the extra socks.

I ditched my old clothes and the tags from the new ones and set about coming up with a plan. Which was… surprisingly difficult when you have no idea where or when you are. England, sometime in the future? Sometime after the Omnic crisis, clearly. My best bet would be getting in touch with Overwatch, assuming they’re still in operation. If anyone could get me home, it’d be Winston and the like. But… getting in touch with an organization like that is rather difficult for a homeless person, I imagine.

My mind wandered for awhile as I dozed, leaned up against a warm metal wall. Now that I was warm and dry, I could feel myself struggling to stay awake. It wasn’t the most comfortable place, but the humming of the machinery and the heat exuded from below was strangely soothing.

What exactly was I going to do? I could go to the police, prove I can teleport, and ask to get in touch with Overwatch. There was no guarantee Overwatch was still operating or would even see me, though. Plus, the chance I would instead get snatched and experimented on by some government was an uncomfortable possibility. I had no idea if that was even a real possibility, but still. I didn’t know anything about my situation. There were too many variables, and that was the main issue. Unless I could track down Tracer and ask her all the questions I had, I was going to be in the dark for the foreseeable future.

As it was the only connection I had was Aegis Five, and I doubted he would help me after what I pulled. Plus, the odds of running into him again were very low, and would probably result in a trip to the police anyway. Would he even bother reporting me to the police at this point? The amount of variables I was dealing with at this point was absurd. How was I supposed to formulate a plan when I couldn’t even figure out what I could do?

I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until I woke up. I wasn’t sure what roused me, but whatever it was had sent me into high alert. I took a moment to calm myself and get my heart rate under control, then left the area. The less time I spent there the better, to avoid anyone noticing I kept sleeping there.

I must’ve slept for quite awhile, as the streets were bustling with people and the sun was high in the sky. The clouds had moved on, and I was grateful for the warmth on my face. I passed the clothing store as I wandered, and was happy to note how normal everything was. It looked like nobody had noticed anything missing. Perfect.

The grocery store on the other hand… I didn’t even get around the corner to pass by before I heard the first telltale sign that I’d fucked up.

“–broke into their store without even unlocking the door, can you believe it?”

I kept walking, but slowed down as I passed by the couple. I stopped to check my watch, then made it seem like I was looking around for someone. They were standing a few shops down from the grocer’s, but judging from the bags in their arms they’d just been there.

“How’d they do it? Didn’t Barry install motion sensors by the door after the last break in?”

“Exactly my thought! He said they checked the security cameras, but they must’ve hacked them or something. One minute they’re outside, and the next they’re inside ransacking the place! They accidentally tripped the alarm when they went too close. Crazy, huh?”

“Especially the same night as someone smashes the window of the electronic store down the way! You think they’re related?”

I continued on my way after checking my watch again, anxiety building. I needed to be more careful. The thought of being dissected rose unbidden to the front of my mind again and I grimaced. That wouldn’t happen… right?

  
I wandered around the area for a solid hour or so, getting a sense of my surroundings. The farther outward I went from the power plant, the more obviously developed and quality everything became. It seemed I was dumped in the worse part of town, but I could’ve guessed judging from the welcome I got. Either that, or I was just spectacularly unlucky.

Even now, thinking about how I almost got my brains smashed in sent a shiver down my spine. Hopefully that same gang had moved on, but more likely their turfed overlapped with the power plant and I was in for a rude reunion one of these days.

It was around the three hour mark, after taking a break in a small park to eat, that I turned back and started heading ‘home’. This was when a bunch of things happened at in quick succession that really proved I have terrible luck.

I turned a corner and very nearly walked straight into someone’s back. I caught myself in time, examining the wall of people blocking the entire street. I scowled, itching to get back to the power plant and take another nap. I was jet lagged, and even with the new jacket and whatnot the cold was creeping into my bones.

The crowd was weirdly large, even for late afternoon in a shopping district, and something about it made me uneasy. Most of the crowd was silent, and yet there was shouting coming from somewhere. I made my way around, back nearly against the framing buildings as I tried to get past the roadblock. That was when I noticed the crowd curved around, surrounding something.

My unease grew, and I went up the stairs to a shop’s door to get a better look. The crowd was indeed surrounding something, and it made my blood run cold. There was a gap, maybe around two meters in diameter, where four people stood over an Omnic. The Omnic was on the ground, one arm supporting them as the other was held to cover their face. I couldn’t make out what the people were saying, but it was no doubt nothing good. One man kicked the Omnic, sending them skidding back a little and causing the surrounding crowd to make more room.

The cold in my veins turned to warmth as I felt anger bubbling to the surface. There were too many people too densely packed to get through to the Omnic, and the angry arguing of the center people was much too loud to shout over.

I made the next few decisions quickly, and without really thinking about it.

I stepped down, and made my way into a nearby alley. I took off my backpack and took out and put on the motorcycle helmet, making sure the internal sun visor was down to obscure my face. If I was getting into a fight, I was going to do so anonymously and with head protection.

I slung the backpack back on, and quickly assessed the alley. Nothing much in the way of impromptu weapons, but there was a pretty solid, if broken, umbrella. The shaft was still intact, so it’d at least be useful as a stick.

I went back to my perch on the stairs, and stared down at the fight. I didn’t know who started it, but I knew the history of King’s Row and its relations with Omnics. I knew that was an uneven fight by anyone’s account, and the Omnic wasn’t even trying to fight back.

It took no effort, and suddenly I was in the thick of it. I’d appeared just before one of the group was going to take another kick at the prone Omnic. There was a resounding sound of shock, and the current assailant startled. I swung the umbrella and hit them in the face, sending them backwards into the crowd. The other three looked just as surprised, not making a move for a moment before lunging towards me.

It was at this point I realized I didn’t know how to fight, and I had no plan. Umbrellas are flimsy things, and I really only succeeded with my first attack due to the element of surprise.

I ducked under the first lunge, earned a punch to the head (thanks past me for the helmet) and grabbed the Omnic’s arm.

“We’re leaving,” I said, hauling them up as best as I could. The crowd was dense, but after my sudden appearance they’d scattered a bit. Enough for me to see through a pinhole gap and focus on a place that was anywhere but here.

We ended up at the opposite end of the street.

“What the fuck?” said the Omnic, looking around in confusion.

“I can’t believe that worked.” I said, shocked.

There was a shout, and I looked over to see the crowd had noticed us. There were some people pointing, and– oh shit, is that a phone? Has someone been recording this?

“Time to get up!” I urged, and the Omnic followed my gaze. They stood up quickly, and we ran.

“This way,” said the Omnic, taking the lead as we sprinted. I didn’t know if the attackers had decided to pursue, but I didn’t want to check.

We got many strange looks as we passed, and it was no secret why. A beat-up Omnic running through King’s Row followed closely by a person in a motorcycle helmet? Not something you see everyday.

It was about ten minutes of running before the Omnic slowed down, turning to face me. I was bent over and fighting to catch my breath. I’d long since dropped the umbrella, but my backpack was still filled with food. That was enough weight to make the run that much harder. Not that I was the best runner to begin with.

“Thanks, but you shouldn’t have done that.”

“No problem,” I looked up at the Omnic, squinting under the visor. They looked… I hadn’t really paid close attention to his appearance the night before, but I definitely remembered the sharp features of Aegis Five. The slice in the paint on his face confirmed his identity. “Aegis Five?” I tacked on, surprised.

Aegis seemed equally surprised, appearing to do a double-take. “Who’re you?”

I took off the helmet, ruffling my hair to try and have some semblance of care for my appearance.

What appreciation Aegis had demonstrated before instantly disappeared as his shoulders went rigid with… anger? Frustration? Annoyance? “Oh god, not you again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so busy.... but i will try to update faster (that shouldn't be hard...) because i love this concept lmao


	3. Settling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make a friend, get some info and find a place to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this takes so long but i'm slow and busy

_“Oh god, not you again.”_

I straightened up with a pout and crossed my arms. “What, I save you from a beat down and this is the thanks I get?” He’d already said thank you, but still. I was still running on the adrenaline from jumping into the middle of a fight and running. I could be cranky back at him if I wanted to.

“I didn’t ask for you to save me, you ass.” Aegis crossed his arms, mimicking my posture. “What’re you doing stealing bar food and getting into fights? Don’t you have something better to be doing? Like bothering literally anybody else?”

“First of all, _you_ _tsundere_ , I am homeless. I’ve got nowhere to be but where I am right now.” I scowled, turning away angrily. I didn’t do it to be thanked, but he could at least be a little nicer to me after I helped him.

“And second?” Aegis asked. He didn’t seem to care about my situation much. The fact he was still talking to me was honestly a miracle, but I was very close to just walking away. The only thing keeping me here was the possibility he could help _me._ Selfish in a way, but I needed to survive somehow.

I hadn’t really thought of a second point. “Secondly, uh. I am… trying to get in touch with Overwatch. They’re operating still, right?” He might be able to get me on track with getting in touch with them, at least.

Aegis was silent for a moment. “No, they definitely aren’t. What could you possibly need from Overwatch?”

“I, uh... have a... I have a message for Tracer and I need to get in touch with them as soon as possible.” I wouldn’t call that a lie, I did have some things to say to Tracer about my situation. Mainly many questions about what the heck was going on, although that was probably more of a conversation for Winston.

“You don’t seem like much of an Overwatch operative.” The tone was curious, but also very disbelieving. I didn’t blame him.

“Dude, I can teleport. What more do you want from me? But if Overwatch isn’t operating anymore, then...” What was I going to do? I wasn’t going to last very long in an unfamiliar country and era...

Deep in thought, I almost didn’t notice Aegis turn around and start walking away. Unluckily for him, I did.

“Hold up, where are you going?” I hopped forward, matching his stride and walking next to him.

“Going home. You should too.” He didn’t even turn to look at me, and I huffed in irritation.

“What part of homeless do you not understand? I was... recently displaced.” If I just... followed him home, what would he do?

Aegis was silent for a long while, and I took that time to take in our surroundings. We were getting farther from the King’s Row center (although, for all I knew, we could’ve left King’s Row behind already. It was just a district, right? Or a neighborhood?) into a more sparsely populated area. The buildings were less commercial and more residential.

“Hey.”

I turned to look at Aegis as we walked. “Mm?”

“What should I call you? You never told me your name.” Aegis still wasn’t making eye contact, but his voice was softer. I told him my first name, and he laughed. A surprisingly nice sound; I could get used to it. “That doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Well what’re you gonna do? That’s my name.” I kicked the ground, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“Call you something else is what I’m gonna do.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Like what?”

Aegis’ head turned towards me, observing. “Not sure yet. Good nicknames take time.” I shrugged in response, and we continued walking in comfortable (at least on my part) silence.

Within a few minutes Aegis stopped in front of an apartment building. “Well, this is my place.” He hesitated for a moment. “You can crash on the couch for a night as a ‘thank you’ for earlier, if you’d like.”

Oh thank _god_. “If it’s not too much trouble,” Honestly, I wasn’t going to decline at this point but I had to seem a least a little polite. “I would be very grateful. I’ve been sleeping near the Underworld and that’s hell on my neck.”

“You’ve been sleeping in the power plant?” Aegis led the way into the building and up a few flights of stairs, rummaging in his pocket for his keys.

I nodded, shifting my backpack a bit. “It’s warm there and not a lot of foot traffic, so. Yeah.”

“Hm.”

The apartment was small, but more than I was expecting. A small living room with a little tv, an armchair and couch. There were two doors, likely a bathroom and bedroom, and an entrance to the kitchen. It was mostly a hodgepodge of knickknacks for decoration; he didn’t seem to have a set theme for his belongings. The armchair was floral, the couch was suede, there was a print of a ship on the wall and what looked like Amiibos for characters I didn’t recognize on a counter, to name a few.

Is it racist to be surprised an omnic is living outside the Underworld? From what I could remember, most of the omnic population of King’s Row was in the Underworld, hence the EMP payload being escorted there specifically.

The thought of the EMP sent a chill down my spine, and as I took a seat on Aegis’ couch I couldn’t help but wonder... where exactly in the timeline was I?

“Hey, Aegis?”

I got a noncommittal grunt in response as he headed into what I assumed was the kitchen.

“Do you mind if I ask some very strange questions that will make sense later if I ever fully explain myself to you?” That got his attention, and he came back into the living room with a glass of water that he set in front of me.

Is it racist to wonder why an omnic has cups? They don’t drink, right? Does he entertain human guests often, or did it come with the place? It would probably be rude to ask...

Aegis settled into an armchair across from me and crossed one leg over the other. “Shoot.”

“Alright, I’m gonna ask that you just give me short answers and save any questions about why I’m asking for after I’m done. I just gotta get this out of the way real quick. What year is it?”

Aegis shrugged but humored me. “2077.”

Just hearing that, even knowing where exactly I was already, I felt a tightness in my chest. I’d lost 59 years... I would have to grieve that later. The date gave me a relative ballpark for when I was, but I needed specifics.

“How is Tekhartha Mondatta?”

Aegis didn’t answer right away. “He was assassinated last year.” So there wasn’t a chance of saving Mondatta, then. I frowned.

“That’s... unfortunate. Has Doomfist been in the news recently?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I believe he’s in prison.”

Ah, alright then. I’d narrowed down when I was. Somewhere before Akande escapes prison and reclaims the Doomfist, but after Mondatta’s assassination. That didn’t leave very much lore-wise, so I was going to have to wing it.

“Alright, that’s all I had for now. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Yeah, just one.” Aegis uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, pressing his hands together in front of his face. “Are you absolutely bonkers, or something?”

“No, I’m not. I’ve just... had a tough... time.” Honestly, I only made the pun to make myself feel a little better.

“I feel like that’s a joke that I’m supposed to get, but I’m not. If you want to stay here, I recommend you be honest with me and stop dodging my questions. You said you would answer them.” Aegis was back to being short with me, which was fair. I nodded, struggling to come up with words. He must’ve read my expression, because he was shockingly patient as I tried to put my response together.

“Alright,” I said slowly, “I’ll try to explain what’s up with me in a way that won’t sound absolutely nuts. I’ll probably fail anyway”

I gave a short recap of the last couple days from my perspective, leaving out the dimension hopping and focusing on the time-travel. I didn’t want to get into the logistics of alternate universes and how this whole world was all just a video game just yet... if at all. It would probably be better in the long run if I kept that knowledge to myself.

Aegis was silent (as he was quite frequently) as he digested the information. “So, you’re a time-traveler, and you got teleportation powers from being in contact with Tracer while she was unhinged from time and space.”

“Yeah.”

“Mhm, there was no way you were going to be able to phrase that in a way that didn’t sound absolutely wild.”

“I tried,” I shrugged, taking a sip from my water.

“So, you’ve never seen something like this before?” Aegis pulled what looked like a piece of framed glass from his pocket. When he tapped the screen, it lit up with various widgets of information, like a fancy holographic smartphone.

“Ooohh my gosh can I see that? That’s so cool.” He handed the phone to me and I fiddled with it for a minute. Overall layout designs for phones hadn’t changed much over the last 70 years, but the speed and structure of the phone itself was a marvel. I had no idea how it worked, since I couldn’t see any visible circuits to indicate the hardware. Was it hidden within the thin frame?

My thoughts were interrupted by another question. “If you’re from the past how did you know about Overwatch and Tracer?”

I was either going to have to spill the beans on alternate dimensions or lie, neither a particularly appealing option.

“I did some research, checked the news. You know.” It was obviously a lie, but Aegis didn’t push the issue.

“What’s your plan, then? Since Overwatch is disbanded and all.”

I shrugged, “I’m not sure yet. I have no idea if the whole ‘displaced through time and space’ thing is going to affect me aside from the teleporting, so that’s kinda concerning. I’ve got no money and no papers, so it’s not like I can get a job. Got any suggestions?” My question was punctuated with a yawn, and I couldn’t help but notice how low the sun had gotten.

He thought for a moment, “Contact the authorities? I’m sure the UN could do something, since they’re still cleaning up after Overwatch’s mess anyways. What’s another issue to add to the pile?”

“That’s fair. I’d rather avoid getting dissected or something though.”

That got me another laugh, and I smiled.

Aegis regarded me for a moment. “You’re looking pretty beat.”

“Well aren’t you just a charmer,” I said.

“Hah! I was going to ask if you wanted to sleep. I can grab you a blanket.” The tone was teasing. Aegis stood up and walked into one of the adjacent rooms.

He was covered in scratches and scuffs from the fight he’d been in. Could it really be considered a fight since it was all one-sided? I’d been in my own tussle the other day, but the bruises and scrapes from that were already fading. Was his damage permanent, or could he fix the superficial scratches?

Aegis returned with an armful of quilts. They seemed homemade from the uneven stitching and variety of material qualities.

“Thanks,” I said, wrapping the quilts around my shoulders. Aegis’ arms caught my attention. It seemed he’d rolled up his sleeves at some point, and at this distance I could make out what looked like intricate geometric engravings into the metal. “Oh, those are neat, are those like tattoos?”

He nodded, “Yeah, basically.” He didn’t elaborate any further and rolled his sleeves back down, so I dropped it.

The ensuing silence was suddenly suffocating, unlike previously. Aegis was picking at a thread at the end of his sleeve and I examined the stitching on the quilts closely to avoid eye contact.

Aegis broke the ice first, making a sound similar to clearing his throat. “I’ve got work soon, so I should be heading out. Feel free to sleep while I’m gone.” He stood up, grabbing a black jacket off a coat hanger. “Don’t steal my stuff. Or break it. I’ll know.” Very funny.

I gave him a thumb up, snuggling down into the couch. “I’m going to sleep. Nothing better to do, anyway.”

He nodded, then headed out the door, but paused in the doorway. “Bye.”

“Bye. See you later, hope you have a nice time at work.” It felt polite to say, but also kind of out of place. Like we were trying to do some kind of domestic ritual that hadn’t been established yet.

“I’ll... try.”

The door shut with a feeling of finality, and I embraced the sudden solitude.

I got up from the couch and rummaged around, finding a piece of paper and a pen. I started listing what I knew- the year, where I was, events I knew had happened and should happen soon. Eventually a new plan started to come together.

I was going to have to try to contact Winston in Gibraltar. Overwatch may be officially disbanded, but if Mondatta had already been assassinated then Winston had put out the recall. I couldn’t tell Aegis that without making him question my knowledge again, so I’d have to figure out how to do that on my own.

I checked my watch, noting that a couple hours had passed. My notes were fairly detailed; Doomfist was going to escape soon. I didn’t know when exactly, but soon; likely in the next couple weeks if not sooner. That meant he was going to meet with Maximilien in Monaco soon after, and then Reaper and the rest of Talon in Venice after that. Beyond that... my knowledge wasn’t useful aside from intentions and affiliations, and I was just going to have to wing it.

I yawned again, closing my eyes. I could rest for just a minute.

I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until I was woken up. The sound of the door opening, however quietly, startled me awake. I opened an eye to watch Aegis’ silhouette slip through the door and quietly close it behind him, making his way around the living room silently into an adjacent room. He closed that door behind him, and a second later a light shone through the crack under the door.

My watch told me I’d been asleep for around 6 hours, so it was likely about 4 in the morning.

I rolled over and fell back asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school is kicking my ass but i got somewhere with this so here you go  
> we're gonna get to the really good stuff in the next chapter don't you worry; we'll meet Genji soon  
> reminder to shoot me any requests or whatnot in the comments, i'm open to ideas ;)


	4. Line of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

When I woke up in the morning, Aegis was still in his room. I sat up slowly, easing the aches in my neck and back from sleeping poorly previously. Compared to the last few nights, Aegis’ couch was luxurious. Moving to swing my feet to the floor, I accidentally kicked the coffee table.

“Ah, you’re awake then?” Aegis’ voice was muffled through the door, and a moment later he opened it and peeked his head through.

“Unfortunately. I feel like I could use another couple hours,” I said with a yawn. “What have you been up to?”

“Just some hobby stuff.” He replied vaguely, fully stepping through the door and wandering into the kitchen. “I don’t have anything for you to eat for obvious reasons, but you can make use of the kitchen if you need to.”

“I’ve got some stuff here, no worries. Thank you.” I grabbed my backpack and rummaged through it, picking out a can of sliced pears for breakfast. When I stood up and joined him in the kitchen, Aegis eyed my choice and grabbed a bowl from a cupboard.

I sat back down on the couch with my bowl of breakfast pears and a spoon, Aegis going to sit in the armchair across from me like the night before.

“So,” Aegis said.

“Mm?” I responded around a mouth full of pears.

“Where’d you get that food? When I saw you at the bar you didn’t have anything with you.” He didn’t seem to be accusing me, but it was still a slightly controversial question.

I took another bite as an excuse to think over my words. Honesty was the best policy for now... Mostly. “I might’ve abused my powers a little bit to get some necessities.”

“A motorcycle helmet is a necessity?” Now he was _definitely_ accusing.

“I need to hide my identity! You know, in case someone wants to track down the teleporting, rude bartender-saving hero of King’s Row.” I struck a confident pose and gave him a grin.

“I wasn’t aware Tracer saved me recently.” Aegis replied wryly.

I held a hand to my chest and reclined dramatically, “You wound me.”

Aegis scoffed, crossing his arms. “So you get an amazing ability and immediately use it for crime. Figures.” He turned his head away from me, and I laughed. Was he pouting?

“Aw, you think I’m amazing?” I teased. “And you’re still annoyed I managed to get away from you with the pork roll, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”

“Oh? How’s that? Aren’t you an illegal alien?” He sat forward, pointing a finger at me. “You can’t get a job. You’re also trying to keep a low profile. What’re you gonna do?”

“I can... mop the floor of the bar for you? Wash dishes?” I made a face, trying to come up with a followup. “Do you need a secretary?”

That got a laugh out of him. “You’re functionally useless aside from mysterious powers. Great.”

I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong.

Most of the morning and early afternoon I spent chatting with Aegis. I told stories about living in the 2010’s and my hometown, and he explained some more about recent history and the current cultural trends. I got to take a look at some more ‘modern’ technology, and he even fished out an older phone model of his for me to play with. It didn’t have service, but it could surf the internet. Not much had changed on the internet.

Evening came and went with another meal of canned food, and when it came time to pack up and leave--Aegis to work and me to another night outside-- Aegis surprised me by offering to let me stay again.

“It’s going to be pretty chilly,” he said. “I don’t want to have to deal with you getting hypothermia and tracking me down in the middle of the night.”

The next week passed similarly. I’d sit in the morning and chat with Aegis, sometimes he’d accompany me to the market where I’d explore, and in the evening we’d chat over dinner. Some nights I’d leave with him to work and keep him company, others I’d stay in the apartment and compile more notes on my situation.

My stockpile of food ran out on the ninth day, and I accompanied Aegis to work that night to help keep the bar clean. It was an unofficial job, and I certainly wasn’t getting paid, but it helped Aegis enough that he was willing to buy me some groceries.

I was involved with another anti-omnic scuffle a few days after that. I’d gone out for a walk with Aegis in the early afternoon-- the sun had been out more recently, and the weather was taking a turn for the warmer.

We were in an area I was unfamiliar with, as a way to get me more accustomed to living there. I’d already learned the routes to King’s Row proper, and with my prior knowledge of the map from the game I’d gotten very good navigating.

The alleys in this new area were notably smaller, and raised voices caught our attention about a twenty minutes into our walk.

Aegis warned me not to get involved, that I might just make it worse, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to be the big damn hero.

A man was yelling at an omnic, gesturing wildly and backing them into the wall. I couldn’t exactly tell what it was about, but the omnic was clearly nervous. I’d already made up my mind to intervene when the man shoved the omnic.

Aegis watched me pull the motorcycle helmet out of my backpack and made a sound suspiciously like a snort, but didn’t stop me. Rather, he made his way over to stand on one side of the alley, using his size to create a blockade. He jerked his chin over to the opposite side, and I nodded.

I teleported to the other side of the altercation, wedging my way between the man and the omnic and boxing him in towards Aegis.

The man was clearly startled by my sudden appearance and scrambled back with a shout. He recovered quickly, and scowled. “Get out of my way.”

“Leave them alone.” I tried my best to sound intimidating and squared my shoulders, staring the man down through the visor of my helmet. We were about evenly matched size-wise, but I wasn’t exactly a trained fighter. “Turn around and walk away and this doesn’t have to get ugly.” Aegis could always back me up, right? He was big and strong looking... though the last time he’d been involved in a fight he hadn’t exactly been standing up for himself.

The man’s jaw clenched, his hands tightened into fists and he took a step forward. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“You think it needs to concern me? This is direct action, you bigoted asshole.” I gently grabbed the omnic and teleported behind Aegis, releasing them then turning to stand beside him.

Having lost sight of me, the man was confused and seemed more aggressive. When he finally turned around and spotted me he flinched. “How’d you get over there?!” The omnic took off, looking back over their shoulder periodically, and I didn’t say anything until they were out of sight.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” I teleported forward, cutting the distance between us in half, just to drive the point home. “You’re a bit out of your league here, dude. Scram.” It felt silly, like an act... but that’s basically what it was. I was just trying to scare him off.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to back up my words, and he booked it down the alley as fast as he could go. When he was gone, throwing a last shout of something unintelligible after him, Aegis smacked my shoulder. “Did you have to be that extra? ‘You’re out of your league’? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m a time-traveling fighter for justice, clearly.” I pulled the motorcycle helmet off and ruffled my hair back into place. “So, how about we get back to our walk?”

Our walk was uneventful after that, as were the next few days. I went to help at Aegis’ work a few times, and it was one of those nights when Aegis brought up just... teleporting to an Overwatch base.

“You said you have to see where you’re going to teleport there, right?” He said, wiping down a glass. It was a Tuesday, pretty late at night, so there had only been a few patrons. They’d already trickled out as the night went on, but the bar was scheduled to be open for another hour or so.

“Yeah, I have to be able to focus on the destination I think.” I was sweeping under the counter-- since I’d started helping with spot cleaning, the bar had never looked so clean. I was actually pretty proud of myself. Plus, going in with Aegis kept me from just waiting for him to return in the apartment... where I was alone with my thoughts. I’d already run out of things to note down in my timeline and plans, and being confronted with my grief and homesickness was the last thing I wanted to do. As long as I kept busy I wouldn’t break down.

“Why not just look up a picture of an Overwatch base and teleport there? There were a few news articles that had pictures of some of the more public areas of the bases, I think.”

I paused in my sweeping to consider it. I pictured the Gibraltar base in my mind, focusing on Winston’s little office. It had been in the Recall short, where Reaper breaks in to steal information from the database. I had plenty of frames of reference-- the first attack spawn for Watchpoint: Gibraltar is in that office, after all. I felt a lurch in my stomach, like I’d fallen from a great height, but I didn’t go anywhere. If anything I just felt nauseous, and a pain was starting behind my eyes.

“Doesn’t work.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to alleviate my growing headache.

“Did you just try?” Aegis said, confused. He put a glass down and turned to face me.

I nodded, then hesitated. Couldn’t exactly tell him how I knew what Winston’s office looked like, now could I? “I tried to go back to the apartment. I think I’m limited to line of sight.”

Aegis must’ve noticed my discomfort, as he set a glass of water down on the counter for me. “That’s a shame. You’re limited to a glorified shortcut, huh?”

“Hey, I think it’s been pretty useful so far.” I said through gritted teeth.

“Great for theft, that’s for sure.”

My headache went away over the course of the hour, and eventually Aegis’ shift was over. We walked home together as the sun was rising, and I couldn’t stop yawning. I was slowly getting used to a more nocturnal lifestyle thanks to Aegis’ night shift, but I stayed home frequently enough that my sleeping rhythm was absolutely out of control. It seemed I spent about half the week pretending I was nocturnal, and the rest of it I spent trying to get back to a normal schedule.

I fell asleep as soon as we got home, crashing on the couch with my pile of quilts. Unfortunately, I was rudely awoken a few hours later. My watch (now set to the proper timezone) informed me it was 11 in the morning, but my body definitely needed another 6 hours at least.

Aegis shook me awake. “You need to look at this,” he said, shoving his tablet in my face.

I sat up blearily and tried to focus on the screen. It seemed to be a video on future-YouTube, featuring a crowd in King’s Row circling... This was a video of the fight from last week. Halfway through the video the crowd opens up to give a perfect view of me grabbing Aegis and disappearing in with a blue flash. The camera doesn’t know where to focus at this point, but then there’s a shout and the view turns to show Aegis and I running away.

“That isn’t very good,” I yawn, “but this couldn’t wait a few more hours?”

“Look at the view count.” Aegis points, and I do a double take. I rub my eyes just to confirm I’m not in fact still unfocused and misreading but... the video had over a million views. It had only been posted a week ago.

“It... could be worse.” I sat back and put a hand over my face. “So there’s a video of us fighting a couple dudes and teleporting away. It’s not gone _that_ viral. What’s a million views these days? It should be okay, right?”

Aegis went over to sit in his armchair and crossed his arms. “Local news have already picked up the story and are asking about the mysterious teleporting weirdo. They’ve got some clips from a grocery store’s security footage, too. Some people are saying it’s doctored, but others are pointing out the fact Tracer’s still active and it could be a related ability.”

I nodded. “So you’re saying...”

“You need to lie low. No more being a hero, no more teleporting in broad daylight, no more stupid motorcycle helmet nonsense. You’re just putting more attention on yourself, and if that’s not what you want then you need to stop putting yourself out there.”

I had to admit that he had a point. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing, though. I need to-”

“You need to figure out what’s going on with you and get in touch with Overwatch, I know.” Aegis interrupted. “I get it. But you also need to be alive to do that, and at this rate you’re painting a big target on your back for anti-omnic groups to track you down and stab you.”

I looked down at my hands and sighed. “I understand this is coming from a place of concern for my well-being, but if I can help people at the cost of my own anonymity then it’s a fair trade.”

“Think of it this way. You have the power of glorified shortcuts. You’re not invulnerable, and from what I can tell you have no formal training in self-defense. You are going to get into a fight you can’t get out of eventually, and I might not be there to help you. You need to chill out and stop developing a hero complex.” Aegis was getting agitated, his voice raising as he leaned forward to punctuate his final statement by jabbing a finger at me. “ _Lie low._ ”

“ _Fine_ ,” I spat. “I’ll chill in here for a week and ditch the helmet. But I will complain the _whole_ time.”

Aegis nodded and stood up. “Good. I’ll let you get back to sleep.” He wandered through the kitchen before heading back to his room, shutting the door softly before turning on his light.

I snuggled back down into my blankets, but struggled to fall back asleep. The sun was peeking through the curtains, basking the room in a warm gold glow as my brain ran a thousand miles per hour. My eyes were struggling to stay open, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t slow down my thoughts.

A viral video and news coverage? I’d really bungled this. Aegis had been right, I needed to slow down... but I couldn’t just sit back. I basically had a superpower! I was in Overwatch’s universe! But there was also the very real and scary threat of death, as Aegis had pointed out. Overwatch’s world was far from a peaceful one, and the game’s media reflected that. With the second Omnic Crisis in full swing over in Russia and Talon back on the rise, who knew what could happen next. Not me, that’s for sure. My knowledge of the plot ended after Doomfist breaks out of prison and returns to lead Talon... and that was going to happen any day now.

Thankfully I managed to fall asleep eventually, waking up to the sounds of Aegis searching the living room for something.

“What’re you looking for?” I slurred sleepily, peeking an eye out of my comforter cocoon.

“I’ve misplaced my box of thread.”

“Pantry, third shelf from the top.”

Aegis leveled me with a flat look, likely disbelief, then went to check. He didn’t say anything, but I knew I was right when he walked back to his room with the metal cookie tin in his arms. I’d watched him put the tin of thread in the pantry a few days ago, a little confused why he did that but ultimately accepting that this was his apartment and he could put stuff wherever he wanted.

I stretched and went to the pantry myself, grabbing a snack of an apple and peanut butter to quell my rumbling stomach. I surfed the web for about an hour on Aegis’ old phone. The news featured three new articles talking about the “mysterious new vigilante of King’s Row”. I scowled, glaring over at my helmet in the corner.

“I’ve got work in a few,” Aegis called through the door between us. “You should probably stay home, at least for today. What with all this hype, you know?”

“Could I at least go for like an hour? I’ll sit in the corner and not do anything, I promise.”

Aegis stepped through the door and leaned against the frame. He’d changed into a dark turtleneck and white slacks. A bold look. “Didn’t you agree to lie low?”

I nodded, gesturing with the phone. “Yes, and I’d be lying low in the bar. No funny business.” If I was going to be restricting myself for the new couple weeks, I was going to enjoy at least one outing first.

My delightful housemate shrugged. “I’m not going to stop you because you’re an adult and I’m not your parent. I _am_ going to inform you of my opinion, however. Which is that it’s a bad idea.”

“I’ll be ready to leave in 10!” I said in a sing-song voice, putting the phone away.

 

The walk to the bar was uneventful, thankfully. I’d left the motorcycle helmet behind at Aegis’ behest, and my backpack felt much lighter. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched the entire time, constantly checking over my shoulder and peering down alleyways in suspicion.

“You sure you don’t want to turn back?” Aegis asked after the fifth time I whirled around to check my peripheral vision. “You’re quite on edge.”

I pursed my lips. “No, I’ll tough it out. I’m just a little wary after that talking to you gave me.”

Aegis made a sound suspiciously similar to a snort. “Way to put the blame on me.”

It was a Saturday night, so the bar was pleasantly populated by about 20 people. Aegis was busy, so I occupied myself with some people watching. I’d gotten fairly good at pinpointing the regulars, and as it was a small bar off the main road there were quite a few of them.

Tonight was shockingly tame compared to other weekends I’d been present for, which eased the paranoia in the back of my mind some. Aegis gave me a soda during a lull, and after about an hour and a half he made eye contact and tapped his wrist. Time’s up.

I made a big show of sighing dramatically, nodding and finishing my drink. I walked up to the bar and gave him my glass. “I’ll be heading out, then.”

“Make it home safe, alright? Run back here if anything happens. And remember, no funny business, eh Shortcut?” Aegis was pulled away by another drink order, and I made a face. Was that really what he was going with for a nickname? I sighed and took my leave.

The weather had been warming up the last few days, but the night was still cool. I buried my nose in my scarf and trudged forward, thankful the apartment wasn’t too far.

Halfway home the paranoia started to resurface, and I began cursing every horror movie and game I’d ever seen. I’d really set myself up for spooky walks home with those. I checked over my shoulder to appease my fear, and was thankful to confirm there was nothing following me.

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so there were still some people walking around, which eased my fear even more. By the time I was walking up the stairs to the apartment, I’d all but forgotten the paranoia.

I resisted a yawn as I unlocked the door, fighting the fatigue of an inconsistent sleep schedule. Dinner consisted of instant noodles and a banana, and after another drink I stopped resisting and flopped down onto the couch. It was the weekend and I was in for a long week or two of not getting out. I deserved to sleep early.

Unlike the night before, I fell asleep nearly instantly, tangled up in my blankets with my shoes and jacket still on.

I was awoken about an hour later not by Aegis, but by a quiet sound outside my window. Not thinking much of it, I adjusted my position and pulled together enough consciousness to kick off my shoes and wriggle out of my jacket.

I was roused again shortly by another sound, this time inside the apartment. My previous paranoia fresh in my mind, I kept my breathing even and still. It was now very early in the morning; the sun hadn’t risen yet, and Aegis wasn’t due home for another couple hours. I squinted through the darkness, trying to make out any unfamiliar shapes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

I was content to just fall back asleep, or jokingly accept my fate as ghost food until I caught a flash of white reflected in the window.

I teleported across the room, landing in a heap just as something heavy impacted the couch right where my head had been. I scrambled for the door, grabbing the handle and getting the door open a crack before I was yanked back by the collar of my shirt.

Something cold, metal and sharp scratched along the back of my neck and I was tossed to the ground. I skidded along the floor and looked up into the mask of Reaper. Never had one of my favorite characters instilled so much fear in me. My side, neck and head ached from Reaper’s claws and my impact with the ground, but I gave my best attempt at a level gaze.

A shotgun barrel was pointed at my head and I stared into the literal face of death. “Make this easy for the both of us and come quietly.” Reaper ground out slowly, still as a statue.

I nodded, eyeing the door, the window, the kitchen. There had to be a way out of here that wasn’t either the sweet embrace of death or being abducted. That’s what this is, right? An abduction?

I narrowed my eyes, the gears turning. This was probably an abduction. That meant they wanted me alive, for whatever reason. Which means the shotgun was likely all for show.

I made a strategic choice, and teleported to the kitchen. Reaper whirled around, leveling the shotgun with my head again and firing. I read the movement and teleported to the side with a shout. _Not for show! Not for show!_ Reaper tossed the gun down and dove forward as I turned to face the front door. Reaper was trained in close quarters combat, I was not, and it really showed. I went down hard not even half a second later, flat on my back as Reaper’s full weight pinned me to the floor.

A clawed glove gripped me by the neck as I struggled to clear the stars from my vision, and I was met with a closer view of Reaper’s mask than I was totally comfortable with given the situation. I tried to focus on the door, but found my vision blurring. My hand searched the floor nearby for anything that could be used as a weapon, but came up empty. “Just give it up. You’re not getting away.”

My neck was released just before I blacked out, and I gasped for breath.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?”

Anyone who knew me would know the answer to that. The answer was always no... but I was going to make an exception. I was injured and in a fight I was _not_ going to win. There was a time for stubbornness, and there was a time for begrudging tact.

I pressed a hand to my side, pulling it away to examine the blood. He must’ve sliced me pretty badly with his claws when he threw me earlier. I went limp and let my hand fall back to the floor, closing my eyes. “...Yes.” When Aegis came home he’d be greeted with slightly out of place furniture and blood on the floor... but he wouldn’t know the culprit. I slowly started moving my hand, writing in tiny motions with the blood on the floor. Reaper didn’t seem to notice.

_R..._

“Good.”

Could I stall? Reaper was known to be just as sarcastic and dry humored as he was when he was Gabriel Reyes, but he was a far cry from a monologuing villain.

_E..._

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” I tried to keep my voice level, but I couldn’t stop the pain and fear in my voice from leaking in.

_A..._

_“_ That not of your concern right now.” Reaper stood up, pulling out a shotgun from... somewhere? It was even more confusing in person than it was in-game.

_P..._

“It is very much my concern! I-” The butt of the shotgun hit me in the temple, and I fell unconscious.

 

\-----

Featuring: Fantastic fanart by  **[swimming_in_hope](http://archiveofourown.org/users/swimming_in_hope) ** of their rendition of the reader <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm getting a bit more consistent with upload times but school is almost over!! so i will get even faster ;)


	5. Trial by Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talon, experiments, smoke, and then hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so warning for like experimentation and needles and whatnot for 90% of this sorry dudes

I came to shortly afterwith a groan, seeing stars and with a roaring in my ears. My head was pounding, localized around my right temple. My hands had been tied behind my back with what felt like zipties and I’d been blindfolded. I was lying flat on my belly, cheek pressed into something wet and metallic on the floor. Bleeding from the side and now the face-- nice.

I couldn’t have been unconscious for longer than a couple of minutes. That’s was good sign I didn’t have serious brain damage... well, nothing above a... I fought through my headache to try and remember what I knew of head injuries. Grade 2? No, no that was if you hadn’t fallen unconscious at all. Grade 3? That felt right. I likely had a grade 3 head injury. How were those treated?

I was getting sidetracked. I needed to pay attention to the present; thinking about my injuries were well and good but wouldn’t get me out of this predicament. What was my predicament, though?

My brain felt foggy, like it was filled with cotton. My memory was a little hazy; I was having difficulty putting together how I went from leaving the pub to being ziptied on the floor. I’d gone back to the apartment like I’d promised, then fell asleep and...

“Inbound to the rendezvous point.”

I was hefted up and over someone’s shoulder, causing a lurch in my stomach as my brain violently fought against the sudden change in angle and altitude. I struggled through the nausea and tried to regain my senses. I’d gone home and gotten beaten solidly by Reaper. The memories were a blur and possibly out of order, but at least they were there.

To past me, the concept of being slung over Reaper’s shoulder would have been fun, cute even. Who doesn’t like being carried like a sack of potatoes? In practice, what with the wound in my side and the ache in my skull, I was much less enthused than I would’ve hoped. Never meet your idols.

Reaper moved quickly and with a purpose, every confident stride jarring my side and jostling my head enough to nearly make me black out. He seemed to know his way around quite well; or at least knew exactly where he needed to go. The roaring in my ears got louder as my face was hit with the chill of the outside. An aircraft? Duh, how else had he gotten here.

That lore analyst in the back of my head would not shut up about how weird it was that a Talon aircraft could come and go through British airspace with seemingly no resistance. Did they not care? Were they aware of Talon and didn’t want to mess with them? Where is Overwatch while all this is going down? Talon isn’t exactly subtle; you’d think someone out there would be tweeting about how “omg a freaky black plane is hanging out in King’s Row again, what is with that?” The last time this had happened Mondatta had been assassinated. You’d think they’d be a little more wary of unfamiliar aircraft.

The jets got louder and I was tossed rather unceremoniously into a seat. A harness was clamped down over my chest, pinning my arms between my back and the seat rather painfully. The roaring of the jets got louder and then became muffled as the hatch was closed, now replaced by a ringing in my ears. As we took off I struggled to maintain consciousness, blood loss and the concussion getting to me. The adrenaline from earlier was also definitely wearing off, my injuries starting to radiate more pain.

I dozed for an hour, probably a bad idea but every moment was a struggle to stay awake. The ringing in my ears drowned out about half of the conversation on the aircraft. Reaper kept quiet for the most part, though his incredibly recognizable voice directly to my left did startle me awake every so often as he talked on the radio. At one point someone put a hand under my chin, lifting my face for inspection. The movement made me frustratingly aware of the blood dried to my face, making the blindfold stiff and any attempt to change my expression uncomfortable on that side.

“You’d think they would put up more of a struggle.” I knew that voice. The gentle Irish accent, while soothing on its own, was incredibly intimidating knowing who it was coming from.

Reaper responded to Moira with a non-committal grunt, “I’m not complaining.”

Moira let my head go limp and her voice moved around to the right, presumably to sit in the vacant seat by my side. “It was shockingly easy to find you, as well. If I didn’t know better I’d think you wanted to be found, what with the internet presence. A bit of a show-off, are we?”

I pursed my lips, electing not to respond. Aegis had been very right-- as usual. Would he feel any sort of satisfaction from that or would he be worried? Will he even care?

“The strong, silent type, perhaps?” My attention was brought back to the present as I could _feel_ Moira lean in. “Or is that just a facade? We’ll see soon enough.” _Oh_ that was menacing, and I wasn’t even trying to put up a facade. I loved her character but did _not_ like being on the receiving end of her intimidation. How tall was she again? Enough to tower over me, for sure.

I felt a hand grasp my face again, and another gently prod around my right temple. I winced, gasping when she prodded a little too close to the wound. “Nothing looks to be fractured, just broken the skin.” Ah yes, she was a doctor, huh? One that excelled at pushing the boundaries of morality, but still... The hands were drawn back from my face and I relaxed only for a moment before they were moved to my side. My arms between my back and the seat left enough space for Moira to poke and prod my wound, moving my shirt to take a closer look. She hummed, pressing gauze to the wound firmly.

Moira tended to my wounds for a little while longer, eventually settling with a tight bandage around my waist. She mumbled something about “damaging the asset” and getting blood all over the seats before moving out of earshot.

The flight ended shortly after that and I was blindly ushered off the jet and into what could only be a Talon base. I was led down hallway after hallway, eventually being stopped in front of a door. I heard a series of numbers being entered into a keypad and the door sliding open. I was shoved forward, a hand grasping my wrist tightly. The zipties on my wrists were cut off and the door behind me closed. I was led forward once more until I was forcefully turned around and shoved backwards. I landed against what felt like a wall at nearly a 45 degree angle and felt my limbs get restrained just as quickly as they had been freed. Great.

Strapped to an examination table-- exactly where I’d wanted to avoid merely a week ago. I heard the door slide open across the room and Moira’s voice drifted toward me, steadily getting louder. “--have been completed, yes. We should be ready to proceed.”

I tried to get a handle on the swiftly rising anxiety in the pit of my stomach, but settled instead for allowing a healthy dose of fear. If they remove the blindfold I’d be all set to at least play hard to get, if not get away entirely. I didn’t plan on going down without a fight... or at least being as annoying as possible.

“Enjoying your stay?” I jumped, Moira’s voice suddenly right in my ear.

“N-not really.” Good execution, solid comeback.

“Ah, they speak. Good. I have a few questions for you.”

Alright, cooperate until a chance to run arises. Good idea.

Moira tinkered with something for a moment before speaking again. “I am Dr. O’Deorain.”

“I know who you are.” I grumbled, immediately realizing my mistake with a sharp inhale. _Moira wasn’t well known_.

“Oh, do you?” She seemed amused. I could hear her footsteps as she fluttered about the lab doing who-knows-what. I grimaced. “Then we’re at an imbalance here, because I, unfortunately, know very little about you.” At least she hadn’t pressed my mistake; I didn’t think I could improvise a reason why I knew a geneticist with history in black-ops by name.

“Let’s start with a little about you, because you’re _very_ interesting, and shockingly... non-existent. We couldn’t seem to find any information on you _anywhere_ , almost as if you’d appeared from _nowhere_.” I mean, technically that isn’t wrong.

“What do you want to know?” I asked hesitantly. I could feed her some information to keep her happy for now.

“We’ll start with the easy questions for now,” she said, tapping a pen to a clipboard. I think. That’s what it sounded like, at least. “what’s your name?”

Oh, I didn’t want to get into that. “Shortcut.” Saying the nickname out loud resulted in a pang of sadness-- what if I never saw Aegis again?

“Your real name, not your call sign.” There was a twinge of annoyance in her voice. Not much, but enough to remind me of the picture of Reaper before he was Reaper-- back when he was Gabriel Reyes and he was disintegrating into black smoke as Moira experimented on him. I frowned and told her my name.

Moira hummed and wrote it down. “Perfect. Date of birth?”

We went through my basic information for a few minutes. Place of birth? Nationality? Languages? We went down the list for everything, that feeling of anxiety rising with every question. I shouldn’t be in any public records, but now Talon was getting my information. It wouldn’t help them much, but still... that was bad on a fundamental level.

“Family?” Even if they were here, I didn’t think I would mention I had any. Talon knowing about me was bad enough, but my family?

“...gone.”

“Unfortunate. Not even that omnic you lived with? Aegis Five, was it? You two seemed close.”

My head snapped in her direction. “He’s no one.”

That got a laugh. “Are you sure? He seemed rather upset at your loss you know.” They’d been monitoring the apartment? Even after they’d nabbed me? “Perhaps we should bring him in and ask him in person.”

“He’s a friend,” I said quickly, “he was letting me stay with him.” Moira was silent, seemingly waiting for me to elaborate. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” More silence. “...I ran out of money while on a trip and couldn’t get back.”

Moira tut-tutted, “No lying now.” Something cold and wet hit the right side of my face and I startled. “I’m just getting you cleaned up. Need you in tip-top condition for the tests, after all.” I eased back against the table, but slowly tensed up at the thought of tests.

Eventually Moira removed the blood, and the blindfold was removed as well.

I was immediately blinded by the lights above and around me, flaring up my headache. I fought the oncoming nausea to investigate the room, taking in the tables of equipment and screens. There was one door across from me about 5 meters, locked with a keypad. Moira noticed my interest, but didn’t seem at all worried.

“You won’t get one foot through that door, you know.” She hadn’t even turned to face me, more focused on arranging syringes on a tray.

The wound on my side was checked again and the bandages replaced, and a patch of gauze secured with tape was placed over my temple. “You definitely have a concussion, but there’s not much I can do for that.”

Moira took my blood quickly and with ease, then immediately took a sample over to a very expensive looking machine. A microscope, perhaps? Honestly I was way in over my head with all this medical and science equipment. Moira mulled over the sample for a long time, mumbling to herself and taking a lot of notes.

After awhile she switched to another sample and another machine, doing some sort of experiment with the blood with adding other things and then spinning it in a centrifuge. This went on long enough that I managed to transcend my anxiety and just become really bored, lying back on the table and closing my eyes. The light was still way too bright and aggravated my headache.

“Oh, you’re still here.” I looked over and made eye-contact with Moira. She got up and walked over to the door, opening it and conversing with the guards outside. She came back with them in tow. “You may go for now. Thank you for your cooperation.” Moira smiled cheekily, releasing my arms from the table and returning back to her work.

My wrists were handcuffed and I was once again lead down hallway after hallway. After I was sufficiently confused, I was stopped in front of a modest door, un-handcuffed, and pushed through. There wasn’t much; just a cot, but I was thankful to find a very small bathroom behind a thin door.

I settled down on the cot and resumed staring at the ceiling. I was really in it, now. I was hungry and thirsty, but within a few hours some food and water was pushed through a slot on the door. I spent most of the time in the cell staring at the ceiling or the wall, lamenting my situation and trying to come up with plans. None of them seemed plausible, but they at least gave me some semblance of hope. My brain still felt rather fuzzy, and if I stood up too quickly I was greeted with incredible vertigo.

I dedicated my time to trying to resting away my concussion.

 

The tests with Moira went the same for a few days. I’d get lead to her lab, get my blood drawn, occasionally demonstrate my teleportation, sit there as Moira did a variety of tests, and then leave. I got used to it rather quickly, but never forgot the fear of eventually being dissected. I was still holding out hope for an escape opportunity, but I never saw anything resembling an exit or way to an exit. Talon headquarters, at least the section I was in, was spectacularly un-labeled.

On the fourth day, I was lead to the lab as normal, had my blood drawn as usual, but then Moira broke the pattern. I almost didn’t notice, but among the blood taking, she injected me with something.

“We’re going to start experimenting with your abilities soon,” she said. “Best start practicing.”

I was returned to my room quicker than usual, and spent an hour or so mulling over what Moira had said. Practicing? I’d already demonstrated my abilities for her before, and hadn’t shown any difficulty with them before. What could she have meant? I yawned, trying to focus on my train of thought. I’d been sleeping a lot lately due to boredom, and that meant my sleep schedule was just as messed up as when I’d live with Aegis. A nap couldn’t hurt. I ended up napping, then dozing some more due to lack of motivation, then eventually trying to get up to stretch my legs. I stood up, felt a wave of dizziness, and promptly fell back onto the cot to doze some more.

The next day, things changed.

I was lead into a different lab, farther from my cell than the usual. I started to get dizzy from the twisting hallways, and had to squint to focus my eyes on the endless gray walls. In the lab we eventually stopped at, rather than an examination table, the focus of the room was a large plexiglass cell. Immediately I was filled with concern.

Moira entered the room with a spring in her step and an assortment of tablets and gadgets. “Today,” she said, “we will be experimenting.”

I tensed up, clenching my hands into fists. This is what I’d feared all along.

I was rigged up with a little wristband that was supposed to monitor my position in the room and life-signs, and locked into the cell. From the inside, unsurprisingly, the walls looked dark. I couldn’t see outside, but the ceiling was clear and had open slots along the edges.

“Alright, teleport to the other side of the cell.” Easy enough.

I stopped examining the cell and tried to focus my eyes on the other side. My eyes wouldn’t cooperate for a moment, disagreeing with the uniform color of the cell, but I managed. I teleported to the other side and turned around, and immediately knew something was wrong.

I dropped to a knee, holding a hand to my head as it pounded. My skin felt warm, too warm, and I was suddenly breathing much too hard.

“Looks like you didn’t take my advice, then. Teleport back.” Moira didn’t seemed bothered by my state, and I struggled against the dizziness to stand back up.

“What did you do?” I was leaning heavily against the wall of the cell, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead. “I feel like _shit._ ”

“You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs,” came the reply, “and you can’t improve something without first testing its limits. Teleport back.”

I fought with my lungs to get my breathing back under control and my eyes to focus on the goddamn room, and teleported again.

I felt even worse, somehow, and dropped back to the floor.

“See, because you didn’t practice like I told you, we’re going to have to go through it all at once after the genes are already fully integrated into your system. It’s going to have the same results, but it’ll feel much worse for you.” Moira didn’t seem too bothered, for what she was saying. If anything, she seemed... amused.

“You could’ve been more specific!” I yelled, glaring at the point in the wall where I imagined her sitting.

Moira hummed. “You’re right, I could’ve.” I could hear the smirk in her voice, infuriating me even more. “Teleport a few more times. You’ll get over it.”

I grit my teeth and fought to stand. I would not let her see me give up. I managed to teleport three more times before collapsing finally. I couldn’t focus my eyes anymore, and the thought of any elevation above the floor made me gag. I was given a break for a few minutes, eventually composing myself enough to not be gaping on the floor like a fish. I rolled over and sat up against the wall, rubbing my eyes. My headache had subsided slightly, but there was now a persistent, very quiet ringing in my ears.

“Wonderful, you’re recovering. You have one more task, and then you’re free to go for the day.”

I scowled, pulling up my knees and resting my cheek against one. “What is it.”

“Teleport out.”

“What? I can only teleport line of sight, I can’t get out of an opaque box.” I twisted around to glare into the glass wall.

“Don’t be a quitter. If you don’t teleport out, then you’re staying in there until you do. See you tomorrow.” I heard her footsteps recede and the sound of the door opening and closing.

Teleport out? The last time I’d tried to teleport somewhere I couldn’t see, I’d felt sick and had a migraine... but I already felt sick and had a migraine, so what was there to lose?

I tried to picture what I remembered of the room, ultimately focusing on the area just outside the cell’s door. It had the most open space, and least chance of me teleporting into an object.

To my utter shock, I landed on the ground outside the cell’s door, whole and no worse for wear. The guards were still by the door and came over to handcuff me, leading me back to my room. I went without a fuss, utterly shocked. I’d teleported outside the box.

It was in my cell later that the idea of teleporting to Gibraltar returned. I’d teleported without line of sight earlier-- could I make my grand escape _and_ track down Overwatch in one go?

Concentrating on Winston’s office produced much the same results as the first time; sick to my stomach, incredible headache. Maybe it was too far? I curled up on my cot and fought down the urge to puke.

 

Moira’s experiments progressed in much the same way. I’d get an injection one day, have hot flashes and headache and dizziness for a few days after, and then test out my teleportion. I’d already demonstrated being able to go through walls if I’d seen them before, but eventually I managed a wall I’d never seen before. Moira was more excited every day, compiling more data and tests and hypothesis. The day I teleported an object across the room, but stayed in place myself, she nearly cheered. I could tell she wanted this power herself, or to eat least utilize it with Talon somehow. I never saw any others being tested like myself, but it had to be happening. Why else take so much of my blood after every successful experiment?

With the improvements to my teleportation came side-effects. Moira’s “treatment” wasn’t without its downsides, and I could feel myself struggling more and more every day. I was tired constantly, struggling to get out of bed at all, let alone walk to the lab. The guards practically had to drag me. Some days it took all my energy just to teleport once. These were the days that got Moira’s attention, and led to more shots and vital checking. My headaches were persistent at this point, and I was given painkillers every so often to stop my complaining.

It must’ve been two weeks into the treatment that I received a visitor in my cell. I’d been sleeping, like usually, when the door had opened. I sat up blearily, focusing on the large silhouette in the door. I almost didn’t realize who it was.

Doomfist strode through my door, and I instinctively backed away as far as I could. Anyone that can level skyscrapers with one punch does not need to be within arms length of me.

“It may not seem like it,” he said, “but you are providing us with a great service.” I remained silent, partly out of fear and partly out of confusion. “I would ask your cooperation for the future,” he continued, “such that we might come to an arrangement.” With those cryptic two sentences, he turned around and left. I didn’t manage to get back to sleep after that.

I did manage, however, to hatch an incredibly stupid plan.

I was getting weaker and weaker, likely a byproduct of crazy gene therapy. My teleporting was only getting stronger. I wasn’t going to last much longer like this, and it’d already been over two weeks. Three weeks? One week. A month? It’d been a long time since I’d arrived. I needed to get out, at least to see where I was.

The next time I was brought in for testing, I was a model participant. It went by quickly, and I managed to get through it with minimal collapsing and fatigue. When I was brought back to my cell, I waited for my food and water to arrive, then ate quickly. I let that settle, then went right into it.

No thinking, only doing.

I focused on the back wall of my cell and teleported. I was left in a hallway shaped and colored like every other. Like with mazes, I started following the left wall. If you follow a wall long enough, eventually you’ll find an exit. I checked around corners, teleporting behind guards to avoid being in line of sight.

I was filled with anxiety, but my brain felt like it was filled with cotton. With every teleport I could feel my strength fading. It was getting harder and harder to think. Were those guards behind me?

Footsteps seemed to follow close behind, but nobody was there.

Sombra? I hadn’t heard or seen her my entire stay here, but that meant nothing. She was a stealth hero, she could be anywhere.

I kept going fast as I could.

All the hallways looked the same but I had to keep going. If I stopped now the repercussions would be high. I didn’t know what I would do if I was caught again, if I had to go back to that tiny room with nothing in it.

Teleporting was becoming difficult. I had to focus more and more, but couldn’t. It felt like I was falling apart at the seams, like I was leaking but couldn’t see the holes. Was I injured? I kept going, determined to persevere.

I found an exit and nearly started crying. The doors were locked, requiring a keycard, but I didn’t need one. It took longer than I would’ve liked, but I teleported to the other side, landing ungracefully on my hands and knees.

There were guards ahead and a tall gate, but the sun was on my face and there was wind and I could breathe and I saw _buildings_ in the distance and then there was a strong grip on my shoulder and a gun near my face and I was being knocked to the ground and I finally started crying.

I hadn’t factored in the possibility of guards on the other side of the door.

I was ushered back to the lab, newly blindfolded and hancuffed. The blindfold and handcuffs remained even after I was secured to the exam table, and Moira entered shortly after. Even exhausted and sobbing, I could recognize those footsteps. “I’m glad you brought this to our attention.” My confusion was strong enough to stop my crying. “We can’t have an asset that can’t hold themselves together, now can we? We had no idea stress-testing your abilities would affect you physically. Are you coherent right now?” What did she mean?

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen symptoms like this,” Moira’s voice got closer. “it seems to be a common side-effect of _those_ genes.” _What did that mean?_ “If I remove the blindfold, will you behave?” I nodded weakly, and suddenly I could see. Moira didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by my escape attempt. She was in “research mode”, engrossed in a monitor near my head. I couldn’t see the screen, but it must’ve been very interesting.

Looking down, I was once again reminded of the image of Gabriel being experimented on by Moira. Small black wisps of smoke, occasionally giving off small arcs of blue electricity, were coming off of my hands and arms. I looked up at the ceiling to try to process my emotions. It didn’t work very well. I was disintegrating, physically and mentally. It was becoming difficult to care.

“We’ll get you stabilized before we proceed with the next experiments.” Moira added something to a tablet with an air of finality, and set about working with some vials and syringes. I was administered a shot and sent back to my room.

I was given more shots every day, and slowly my strength seemed to return. I was still tired most of the time, but I could at least manage the walk to the lab easier now. Moira had me stress-test my teleportation more, but the process didn’t seem to result in me breaking down as badly as before. Teleporting through walls repeatedly still resulted in some smoke, but I could at least focus now. I was never able to reach a level of “wraith-y-ness” that Reaper could, and I was thankful for that. I didn’t think I could handle the stress of having to put myself back together after nearly losing it the first time.

Apathy was becoming a problem. While I now had the strength to physically get out of bed and walk to the lab, I really didn’t see a point to do so. Guards had to enter and drag me away more and more. Why bother cooperating so much when they were going to get what they wanted regardless? Why bother being emotionally present? Why bother?

“You’re almost completely stable,” Moira said a few days later. “you’re lucky. If we hadn’t caught those issues when we did, you might’ve fallen apart entirely.” I grunted noncommittally. “It’s most fortuitous you decided to stage your failure of an escape when you did.” I grunted again, just waiting for the checkup to be over so I could trudge back to my cell and nap. Moira seemed pleased with my non-reactions to her goading. “You’re done for now. We’ll let this round go through your system for a couple days before testing it.”

True to her word, the next couple days were spent in my cell with no disturbances. I had just fallen into my fourth doze of the day when I was startled awake, apathy shattering with sudden fear.

An explosion rocked the building, shaking the walls. It sounded close, much to close for comfort. I scrambled off the cot and tipped it over, creating a makeshift barrier. I settled into a corner farthest from the door with the cot in front of me, heart pounding in my chest.

I could hear shouting and loud footsteps run by my door and continue down the hallway, followed by more shouting. The noise level slowly increased, and _were those gunshots?_ A loud thud shook the walls again, rattling the door to my room in its frame. The voices became louder as the fighting seemed to be right outside my door before suddenly all was silent.

I slowly peeked out from behind my cot only to dive back behind it as something impacted my door with incredible force. The door dented, but didn’t break. Until it was hit a second time. The door fell to the ground with a clatter, and I maintained my hiding place behind the cot.

There were loud, thudding footsteps through my door, and then a very familiar voice. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” I peeked around the cot to make eye contact with a very large German in armor wielding a massive hammer. “Ah, this _is_ the right room!” I gaped, trying to confirm that I wasn’t having a very sad dream. “Come with me, quickly! You are safe with us.” Reinhardt kneeled down and reached out a large hand to help me up, gently leading me out the door.

Us?

It felt like my brain was moving at a snail’s pace, trying to process everything that was happening.

Talon soldiers littered the hallway, the walls now sporting bulletholes, large hammer-sized skid marks, and... shuriken?

“We don’t have much time before reinforcements arrive, we must hurry.” Another familiar voice was given a face as Genji rounded a corner, posture cautious and one hand resting on the handle of his sword. Reinhardt and Genji were standing before me, and all I could do was stare dumbly.

I continued gaping, following numbly as Genji lead the way at a brisk pace and Reinhardt followed behind. It seemed like every hallway we went through was filled with fallen Talon soldiers, and I tried to avoid staring at the floor.

More soldiers appeared, firing down the hallway from around a corner. I was quickly pushed behind Reinhardt as he used his size to shield me, bullets ricocheting off his armor. Genji took initiative, deflecting and dashing to the fray. It seems like only milliseconds before the soldiers were falling to their knees, Genji sheathing his blade and motioning for us to continue.

We eventually came upon a large hole blasted in a wall, a jet parked a short distance away. Had they really gone in, guns blazing, into a Talon headquarters for a rescue mission? For _me?_

I was hesitant to get on-board, thoughts of possible consequences going through my mind. Moira hadn’t done anything to me after the first escape, but if I was recaptured after this? I’d have to pay for the lives of dozens of Talon soldiers, for sure. Reinhardt gently pushed me up the ramp into the jet, making my decision for me.

“We are aboard, take off!” Genji called up to the cockpit, a feminine voice calling an affirmative from the cockpit.

More gunfire began to follow us as we took off, the hatch closing with the sound of ricocheting bullets. We ducked as some slipped through the cracks, embedding themselves into the walls of the jet. Genji flinched back as one clipped his shoulder, checking his armor as the hatch finally closed with the hiss of hydraulics.

I was gently sat at a booth by Reinhardt and greeted with the gentle face of Zenyatta. My gaze was diverted to stare at the interior of the jet, taking in my surroundings. Genji was sitting against the wall, Reinhardt had moved up to the cockpit to converse with the pilot. The voice drifting down... was that Tracer? It was Tracer.

“Hello, my friend.” My attention was dragged back to Zenyatta, gently... floating there. Honestly, why did he even have legs? “Do you require medical attention?”

I shook my head, not missing the way one of Zenyatta’s orbs floated over hover near my head regardless, softly glowing gold. I was immediately soothed mentally and physically, as though all the muscles in my shoulders and neck relaxed simultaneously. I took a deep breath, trying to settle myself. I was definitely still anxious, but my mind felt clearer than it had in a long time.

I had just been saved. By Reinhardt, Genji, Zenyatta and Tracer. I wasn’t in Talon’s clutches anymore. I had made contact with Overwatch... though not in the way I’d originally planned.

I couldn’t help crying, just a little bit.

Zenyatta didn’t seem phased, waiting for me to get my breathing under control before asking, “Do you know who we are?”

I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, “You’re with Overwatch. You just saved my ass from Talon.”

“Is there anything you need right now?”

I thought for a moment, breath stuttering a little before I decided on an answer. “I don’t want to see Moira ever again.”

That got me a chuckle in response, “We will see what we can do. Is there anything else?”

Aside from food and medical attention? “Can I... take a nap?” I felt sheepish asking, especially with the knowledge I’d spent the last three weeks napping almost exclusively. But knowing I was away from Talon and surrounded by arguably the safest people possible... I think I was going to have the best rest in weeks.

“Of course. We will have you speak with an associate of ours shortly, but you may rest until then.”

I lied down on the booth seat and closed my eyes. I didn’t sleep, heart pounding the more I thought about what just happened. Overwatch saved me. How had they found me? How did they know where I was? Zenyatta’s orb remained in its place, hovering near my head. The longer it was there the better I felt, my muscles slowly relaxing and my mind soothing. I was safe.

How does that orb work?

A hand on my shoulder roused me from my thoughts, and I sat up to look Genji in the visor. “If you are able, we would like you to speak with our associate, Winston.” Neat.

I nodded, “That’s fine.” I was handed a tablet with what looked like fancy Skype on it, Winston already dialed in and on screen. “Uh, hello.”

“Hello!” Winston said, an actual talking gorilla on the other side of the skype call. I tried not to stare. Aegis I’d gotten used to being an omnic, Genji was a cyborg I was barely managing not to ogle. Reinhardt was a giant German man in super armor. But I was still having trouble compartmentalizing Winston being a talking gorilla. “I hope you are feeling well. Well, as well as you can be after going through what you did. Do you mind if I ask a few questions about what happened?” Winston seemed just as unsure about the situation as I did.

“Um, sure.” I pursed my lips. “I’m not sure how helpful I will be, I’m not _exactly_ sure what they were doing.”

“Let’s start with the easier questions, then. Do you know why they kidnapped you?”

That was an easy one. “Yeah. I can teleport. I assume they wanted to figure out why and use it.”

Winstom seemed surprised, “You can teleport?” So they’d saved me with no idea why I’d been grabbed? Weird... “Do you know how?”

“I have some theories, but I’d rather talk about them in person. If possible.” I didn’t want to get into the whole “Tracer did this on accident” with her within earshot, and with three other people in the room.

“That’s fine. Do you know how long you were with Talon?”

“A few weeks? Maybe longer... I was kept in a cell most of the time with no way to keep track.”

Winston nodded, expression turning to one of sympathy. “And do you have any idea what they were doing with you?”

I scowled. “Moira mentioned genes and whatnot a few times. Mostly I was given shots, had my blood taken, and had my teleportation tested a bunch. I don’t know any specifics of what they did.”

Another nod, and a moment of silence as Winston wrote something off screen. “Okay, and final question. Have you felt ill? Have you noticed any side effects we should be aware of? We have a doctor here waiting for your arrival to check on you, and she would like to know what to prepare for.”

I pursed my lips again. “It’s a little complicated.”

“Don’t worry, we’re used to that.” Winston’s attempt at wry humor didn’t land well with me.

“For the most part I’m okay, but sometimes I start falling apart. Like, disintegrating. And it gets hard to think.”

That seemed to worry Winston, but he made a valiant effort of trying to hide it. “That’s all I need for now. Do you have any questions for me?”

I nodded, resettling the tablet in my lap. “How did you know to look for me?”

Winston smiled, “We received a tip of a suspicious aircraft in the King’s Row area, and when we investigated we found some evidence of a kidnapping. An omnic gave us some information to be on the look out for you, a friend of yours I believe?”

I leaned forward, “Aegis?” My heart was pounding again. He’d tipped off Overwatch? He’d gotten my message? “You spoke to Aegis? Can I speak to him?”

“Yes, I should be able to get him on the line, one moment...” Winston fiddled with something off screen again, and then the screen went dark. A little phone icon indicated it was dialing, and after a few seconds there was a click.

“This is Aegis.” He sounded... exactly the same as I remembered. Curt, somewhat disinterested. I almost couldn’t find my voice for a second. “Hello?”

“Hey Aegis,” I said through a surprising amount of emotion, “it’s me.”

“Yeah, who’s ‘me’?” There was a pause. “Wait... Shortcut? Is that you?” I could practically hear him leaning forward, shock in his voice. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m okay now, I just got rescued.” The tears were returning, but I managed to hold back. “Did you get my message?”

“The creepy as shit message in blood? Yeah, yeah I got it.” Aegis laughed, though it seemed strained. “I thought you’d died, you know. Couldn’t have left a longer message or anything? ‘I’m alive, don’t worry, but please save me. Also you were right and I was wrong.’” The tone was teasing, but I could hear the worry in his voice.

“It’s good to hear you, too.” I smiled, bittersweet. “How did you tip off Overwatch?”

“You were just rescued right? Rest up, Shorty. I’ll see you soon.” Aegis dodged my question, but like usual, he had a point. I was fading fast, and could already tell I was going to have a real nap this time.

“See you soon?”

“I’ll meet you when you land. Just rest.”

That didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but I relented. “Okay, just don’t work too hard. I’ll see you soon.” Aegis hung up, and the call was reverted to the video conference with Winston.

“Did you have any other questions?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“Not at the moment, I’d like to rest if that’s okay.”

“You have a long flight ahead of you, so take your time. We can go over everything after you land and receive medical attention.” Winston ended the call, and I reclined in the booth again.

Reinhardt was still in the cockpit with Tracer, and Zenyatta had settled in a chair across the jet. Genji was back in his place against the wall, and I couldn’t help but feel a little starstruck. I was in a jet with Genji, Zenyatta, Tracer and Reinhardt. Absolutely wild.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, comforted by the presence of heroes all around me and the gentle hum of the jet. I was safe, no longer held captive by Talon. I was going to receive real medical attention, and there weren’t going to be any more experiments.

I sighed in contentment, golden light from Zenyatta’s orb giving a warm glow to everything around me.

Despite my best efforts, my dreams were plagued by needles and smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so freaking long asljfda;lsjfda
> 
> so what character do you think reader mained? :) i love Moira

**Author's Note:**

> see ya next time, pals


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